


Day 3: Suit & Tie

by onehaleofanadventure



Series: JayTim Week 2016 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Cat, Fluffy, Jason cusses, Jason has a cat, JayTimWeek, JayTimWeek2016, M/M, Mutual Pining, like once, ridiculous fluff, soft happy jay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onehaleofanadventure/pseuds/onehaleofanadventure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone loves a man in a tux</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 3: Suit & Tie

“Jason. Jason Peter Todd!” Tim banged on his apartment door, “Open this door right now.”

Tim heard some shuffling and fast but quiet footsteps approaching the door.

The door swung open, revealing a slightly frazzled, slightly annoyed looking Jason.

“Shhh!” He hushed, spitting slightly. Tim open his mouth but found a hand covering it. “Shit, babybird, I just got that damn thing to sleep, I’d really rather you didn’t wake him up.”

Tim tried to say something, growling when it was muffled beyond comprehension by the hand _still_ covering his mouth. He attempted to remove the hand and enter Jason’s apartment, but the hand would not move, and Jason’s bulk blocked the doorway.

In a moment of childish pettiness, Tim licked his hand; which, of course, made him let go. Tim sent him a smug smirk while squeezing between him and the open door, stomping into the living room.

“Timmy, you’re killing me here. Can you not be a little bit quieter?” Jason hissed, looking towards his bedroom with a look of grim expectance.

“You’re being weird, well, weirder than normal, and usually I’d ask… but, I really do not care right now.” Tim spat, quieter than before, but still too loud for Jason’s preference. “You promised you would go to this gala, and if we don’t go to the tux fitting today, it will not be ready for tomorrow. And somehow, I was chosen to make sure it got done.” He wasn’t chosen, he volunteered, but Jay does not need to know that.

Jason runs a hand through his hair, leaving it at the back of his head. The action is a nervous gesture that Jason stopped hiding when he a Tim moved to something closer to friends—the fact that Jason trusts him enough to not hide his every thought sends butterflies through Tim’s stomach, a sensation that leads to some more than improper thoughts he ruthlessly quashes—or the brothers Bruce wants them all to be.

“Uhh…about that,” Jason starts, in some mix of a whisper and an apology, “the things is, I, uhh, I wo—“

“No. No, you will not back out of this. You made a promise. And I am not dealing with the fall out if you bail.” When Jason continued to look apologetic instead of properly chastised, Tim continued: “I will not accept some lame excuse. You and Bruce have been on good terms lately, so it is not that. Why, what reason could you have for risking that.”

This time Jason looked abashed, he turned away from Tim slightly, as if trying to hide the small pink flush just dark enough to highlight the fine dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Tim will admit to himself, and only to himself, that it is a really good look on the older man, especially when paired with the small, slightly nervous smile behind a bitten lip. It makes him wonder what other things he could do to get the larger man to look like that, it also makes him really want to lick him all— _nope, none of that_ , Tim ends those thoughts before they lead somewhere bad. _Brother, Tim, we are brothers, that is not an acceptable train of thoughts about your brother_ , Tim repeats the words over and over in his head until they sound like the mantra he has been repeating since Jason stopped trying to kill him and started trying to befriend him.

Tim clears his throat, “So why Jason, what is so important that you cannot go to the gala like you promised?” He crosses him arms, intent on waiting patiently for Jason’s answer and hoping Jason won’t notice how flushed his cheeks are—it is a normal, and yet monumentally annoying occurrence, flushing around Jason.

Jason focuses on the ground as if it holds all the answers, flicking his eyes to Tim’s before blurting—louder than he has been all morning: “He is so small, and so cute. But he cannot really do anything for himself right now, so someone has to be here with him. And Roy isn’t in Gotham right now,” he pauses, mumbling something that sounds like, _not that I’d trust him, can barely care for himself most of the time_. “And I promised I would take care of him, so I can’t really leave him alone, which means I have to stay…” He trails off, losing volume towards the end and returning his teal gaze to the floor.

Tim eyes him suspiciously, not that Jason notices. Finally, he catalogues all the small scrapes and scratches that litter Jason’s broad chest and bulging biceps—which he had been studiously ignoring, bat-self-control and everything—and rumpled hair, as if he had been lying down, but did not actually sleeping.

“Jay.” Tim says, hard but not unkind. He waits until Jason’s beautiful blue-green-gray eyes meet his own narrowed, steel-blue gaze. “What is going on here? Why do you look like you have been mauled by a small animal?”

“I wouldn’t say mauled…” He mumbles. Jason moves towards his bedroom, side-stepping around Tim, who turns to follow him. “He’s just small and does not really understand his claws, yet.”

When they reach the door—slightly cracked he notes, most likely so Jason could hear in and not cause a lot of noise by closing or opening it—Jason turns to him, kaleidoscopic eyes pleading, “Just be quiet, ‘kay?”

Jason looks at him expectantly until he nods, another moment or two of silence and Jason turns to slowly push the door open. Tim raises a questioning eyebrow, rotates his head to look at Jason, opening his mouth to give some sarcastic remark before he thinks better of it and closes his mouth with an audible click.

Jason glances at him before slowly and quietly making his way to the kitten asleep amongst the pillows at the head of the bed. He runs a gentle finger over the soft fur, looking down with a warm, fond smile and chuckling silently when the kitten’s ears twitch and he uncurls, pushing himself into Jason’s larger, and obviously comforting hand.

Tim joins him by the bed, on equally silent feet. Jason looks up at him before returning his gaze to the kitten.

“His name is _Waddles_ ,” he begins in a soft whisper Tim almost has to strain to hear. “I wanted to name him Penguin but I discarded that idea, after all, I’d rather not have a cat named after one of B’s rogues.” He smirks up at Tim, the look is softer and more fond than his usual sarcastic amusement. “When he sits up, he looks just like a fuzzy little penguin in his suit jacket and bowtie. I’d show you, but he hasn’t slept since I got him. Poor little fellow is scared, he’s only a few days old. He also has the most adorable little white socks on three of his feet and the most beautiful blue eyes,” he stays looking at Tim this time, “kinda like yours, Babybird.”

Tim can feel his blush, fighting it is no use, it always happens when Jay say something even a little complimentary about him. Jason’s smile curls closer to his usual smirk, it’s enough for Tim to roll his eyes, hoping that will distract from the blush that still isn’t fading.

“He fits with all of us,” he continues, glancing down at the kitten before meeting Tim’s gaze once again. “The black hair and blue eyes, dressed for a fancy party. But he matches me, with the white accent.” He eyes flick up to his white patch for a small moment. “He looked so sad, and hurt, I couldn’t just leave him. So I’m taking care of him, even if it means bailing on Bruce.” Jason’s gaze steeled, challenging Tim to disagree.

Tim wouldn’t, but Jason didn’t need to know why—seeing Jason soft, fond, vulnerable, or even hurt, not that he actually enjoys seeing that, fills Tim with the desire to make him happy, in whatever way possible.

Tim sighed and smiled softly, watching Jason stand and the challenge in his eyes melt into something closer to hope. “Alright Jay, you and Waddles are off the hook, I’ll cover for you, for now. But.” He gave Jason a serious look, “you have to explain to Bruce why you will not be attending.”

Jason smiled at him, blindingly bright—his breath caught, he had never seen anything so beautiful, and it was making his desires significantly harder to ignore—and lead him out of the room, softly closing the door behind them. With the door shut, and them effectively muted to Waddles, Jason gathered him into a tight—satisfying—hug. Before Jason pulled away, he kissed Tim on the cheek. “Thanks, Timmy. I promise I’ll talk to B in a few days.”

The sparkle in his brilliant, blue-green eyes left Tim utterly speechless. Tim dipped his head in an effort to both nod his assent and hide his blush, before hastily retreating from the apartment, Jason’s soft chuckle following him into his dreams for days.

\------------

Three months, almost to the day he met Waddles, Tim sits on Jason’s—their—bed in a pair of boxers and a shirt several sizes too larger—obviously stolen from his boyfriend’s closet—dragging a string across the duvet. Waddles, much larger and healthier, tries to pounce on the fraying ends, continuously getting stuck because he still has not figure out his claws.

The apartment door opens, signifying Jason’s return from his day job. “Hey, Babe.” He greets, kissing Tim on the nose, making him scrunch up his face, on his way to _their_ closet.

“How was work? Fun as always?” Jason just grunts, obviously nothing exciting happened. “You never told me how you ended up with Waddles.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jason exits the closet in a pair of old, ratty sweats, effectively distracting Tim enough that he laughs and has to repeat what he had just said. “Selina and I were hanging out—don’t give me that look! We hang out, we bond over our mutual annoyance at Bruce’s emotional constipation and inability to interact socially—anyway, we were on one of our bi-monthly anti-hero hangouts. Someone had been harassing the girls down on Old Main, and in the alley we chose to get back to the rooftops, we heard this sad little meowing sound.” He looked sad for a second.

“I uhh… I pulled him out from where he’d been dumped in a box in the sewer and got himself stuck in the grate trying to climb out. We never found any litter mates. But I would not part with him no matter how much Selina tried to take him.” He smiled fond and proud, stoking Waddles’ head.

“So it’s Selina that leaves the box of cat supplies on your fire escape every other week.” Tim questions.

“Yeah,” Jason smirks. “She's still mad I won the kid in our divorce.”

Tim rolls his eyes, following Jason’s hand across Waddle’ tuxedo printed fur, leaning forward to kiss the smug, ridiculous smirk of his boyfriend’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, I think this is my favorite one so far. I continued on my trend of trying to find something super different to write for the theme of the day, so yeah,
> 
> As always, not my characters, just my interpretation.


End file.
